1910s: In which Anna and Alice writes two very different letters to each other

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Dear Alice, 

I hope my letter finds you well as I long to hear from you. Most likely this letter will find you almost as soon as my last, but I feel I need to write to someone least my frustrations get the best of me. Mother had her charity club here today. You know how I always thought they were just a bunch of women talking but doing little. Well, after joining the meeting today I cannot say that my view has changed much. They're all horrified by the war, of course, and talk about the need of action, but then settle on things like knitting sweaters or hosting charity balls! 

Can't they find no more direct way to take action? I have never been patient enough to knit, and as you know I abhor balls. Why spend so much money on entertainment when you could just ask people for money? I do not know what to do myself, but I do feel the need to do something other than eating and chatting and hosting parties! 

It's so bizzare that when people are dying, here they were knitting, and gossiping. The greatest news they are interested is that we have a new reverend. I have not met him yet, but everyone speaks highly of him, especially since he took in the Hutson-boy into his household. No one else would. I suppose it does speak to his merits, but I cannot help but to wonder why he only took the boy and not the girl too. Josephine informs me she has left school, and Emily said that she has taken position in the Godeau household as a maid. What would it be like to live next to the house you've called a home your entire life, to see your own brother come and go to school while you are now cut off from that life? People say this is a good thing, that both children are now taken care of, but I cannot help but to feel there is a deep injustice here. What about her dreams? Her hopes for her future? No one dreams of becoming a maid, how could anyone possibly dream of that? 

 I do hope you are well, and that your studies are going well, and that you have some time off for Thanksgiving at least. Write to me soon to let me know all is well. Miss you terribly. 

Your loving sister, 
Anna


*** 

Dear Anna, 

I write to you know, knowing that I will see you before this letter can be replied, because if I do not commit this to paper now, I am afraid I will never dare to speak of it. Or I will start believing tonight never happened and this was all a dream or a fantasy, some warped version of reality that could never come to be. I do not understand, and I still struggle to accept, but my heart is soaring tonight and there is nothing my mind can do to keep it still or silence the desire it feels. 

Lizzie kissed me! There I said it. She kissed me. And I kissed back. And for a moment in time it felt as if all was right with the world. No hesitation, no self doubt, no uncertainty, just a moment of absolute clarity. 

 I am so sorry dear sister, for subjecting you to secrets you should never be required to keep, and I wish... no, that is a lie. I no longer wish for normalcy, because how can I wish for that when all I my heart is crying out for is the very opposite or normal? You advice me to stay focused on my studies, but how can I when I can barely think? All I am capable of tonight is feeling, and I know everyone in the world will tell me this is wrong and sinful, but it felt so right. It felt...natural, simple, and so much more that I cannot wrap my head around to write or express in words. 

 Many would say that I should feel guilty, but the only think I feel guilty of is not properly replying to your letter. There was so much in there, so many things I should think about, say something about, but there is no room left in my head to think of anything but tonight. 

I must get to bed, last light was long ago and I'm writing in the light of the fireplace. I will see you soon, before you have the chance to reply to me, I'm certain. Burn my letter, will you do that for me? I cannot bare the thought that father or mother may inadvertently see this. If you want them, I'll share all the details of what happened with you when I see you for Christmas. If you do not, I will understand and speak no more of it. 

 All my love, 
Alice 

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